Ashes, Ashes
by queenkiz
Summary: They lived in an unknown world. It was cold and unfeeling. Lit up by the fire of their own devious passions...


**Ashes, Ashes**

Disclaimer: Belongs to J.K. Rowling, who happens to be very rich, aka, not me, haha.

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They lived in an unknown world. It was cold and unfeeling. Lit up by the fire of their own devious passions. They burned the castle down, torched with dancing flames, an evil dance, green _Morsmorde_ smoldering against the blackness of the night. There were shadows flickering, like the hideous red flame, demolishing ruthlessly that which was once home. The supporting timbers cracked and crashed down. The magic fell to pieces, portraits flamed up. There was a faint note of screaming, pleading, sobbing. The stones which had held up so long tottered and tumbled. And the famed castle, finally broken, still burning, was slowly abandoned. Their lingering glances, betraying the depth of their emotion, clung to the tattered remains.

It was all on His orders, of course. The castle which had scorned him had to fall. To scattered, fragmented, broken pieces. It was a sign of his power, which would not be broken, like the _Morsmorde_ gleaming harshly among the stars. That power grew even now, all of them could feel it. The last light had been extinguished, and all was lost. But it did not seem to bother them. They reveled in the darkness, cloaked and hooded in black, the gleam of their bone-white masks standing out against the dark. They were unnecessary now, but how empowering those masks were. They were proof that they belonged to Him.

Once free from the bondage of the castle, they vanished, going to report to Him. He would be pleased, they knew. Very, very pleased. Maybe even pleased enough not to torture one of them tonight, if they were lucky. If they had performed the task right that evening. They swelled with the pride of their actions, shivered with anticipation and a deadly excitement, forcing the feelings of loss from their demented hearts, and entered His darkly dank abode, bearing the news He wanted to hear. He was facing the flickering fire in the dim chamber, turned away from them, a high-backed chair hiding Him from view. He was silent for awhile, perhaps allowing their high emotions to absorb into Him.

They glanced around His chamber, taking in his various trophies. A partially destroyed book rested inside a glass case, and likewise, so did a ring, set with a cracked black stone. A golden locket dangled over the fireplace, glittering with the light of the fire. Helga Hufflepuff's cup rested upon the mantle, oddly cold looking and unfriendly. A pair of broken black glasses with rounded frames seemed to be the most prized of all of His items, resting upon a ruby red pillow of velvet, hidden inside a box of the clearest glass. All were tokens of His power, just like the fall of the castle hours earlier. They looked at those possessions and feared Him for them, like the snakes they were.

At long last, He spoke, his voice a serpentine-like whisper. "It is done." It was not a question at all. His chair swiveled to face them, revealing Him to them for the first time that evening. He was handsome, and young, looking no older than twenty, with pale skin, dark curling locks that fell around his ears and into his eyes, no longer slitted and reptilian. The best restoration magic could have done. It made Him _almost _humane. A smirk played upon the pale pink lips. He seemed to search their faces, still hidden by the masks. Or maybe, He searched their eyes, glittering from within the whiteness of the masks.

"Did you have fun?" He then asked, a cold laugh escaping the pale lips. Those before Him did not respond. "Of course you did," He murmured, getting up from his chair, circling around them, slowly, eerily chanting, "Ashes, ashes, Hogwarts...fell... down." He laughed his cold laugh. Ironic, though none of them realized this, how the wizard who valued pure blood above the rest murmured the variation to a Muggle children's tune. He was now examining them, maybe testing them for weakness, for love. He halted before one, near the back, narrowing his eyes while the same smile played upon his mouth.

"You may have officially redeemed yourself, Draco," He voiced, observing the other closely. He seemed to like what he saw. The other stood straight backed, as unwilling and cold as He Himself. "They tell me you were the leader, you threw the first torch, igniting the school, and you were the last to leave, making sure that Hogwarts was burned all the way to the ground." The other, apparently named Draco, did not respond, except with the nod of a head. He examined Draco. "We shall see if you are more loyal than your wretch of a father."

He glided away from the leader of the mission, glancing at the other members of the small crowd in the room as He made His way back His chair. He seated Himself again, allowed them a few minutes of nervous silence and fidgeting, then spoke the words they all wanted to hear: "For once, you lot have pleased me. You actually accomplished what I wanted done." He paused, then turned His chair back to the fire. "You may go."

Their task was complete. They filed out of the room, one by one, silent as a fleeting cloud. The last of all to leave was the leader, who cast a hateful look at the back of his master's chair. But as he was going to the door, the Master spoke again, his voice soft and drawling. Chilling, even.

"Hate becomes you, Draco," came the icy, high voice. "It will take you far in my world."

The other paused at the door, glanced back, and then spoke for the first time in a low, cold tone, "Thank you, Master."

And then, Draco Malfoy quietly exited the room, leaving the door to shut behind him with a tiny click.

His Master smiled into the flames of the fire before him, minute compared to the ones that had eaten the hated castle alive earlier that night. He then studied the clutched fingers before Him, His own. Long, pale fingers holding each other. How interesting. The fingers that held the world now. His fingers, His power. His glance shot back to the fire, and He let His last musing words of the evening free:

"If I didn't know better, I'd say Draco would be the death of me."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Well, I hoped you all liked it...if you did, please click on that little button below that says "Submit Review" on it. That would be absolutely awesome. However, if you didn't like it, I'd still like to hear your thoughts...so please review too! xp


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